Midnight Honor

date, there had been only one cloud dampening a perfect record of duels fought and won.
    “You take liberties with my humor, sir,” Garner said stiffly.
    “You take liberties with my country, my family, and my good name. I do not know who this ‘reliable source’ of yours might be, but I can assure you my wife is not gadding about the countryside. She is in Inverness, the guest of my mother the dowager Lady MacKintosh, and if there are rumors, I suggest they are unsubstantiated at best, unmitigated folly at worst.”
    “And of course you can offer proof she is at Drummuir House?”
    Angus's eyes cut swiftly and coldly to Worsham. “I should not have to prove any such thing, sir.”
    “But if you did,” the major countered, his eyes glinting.
    “If I did,” Angus said, “I have letters from both my wife and my mother. Long, boringly detailed letters about how they have been spending their long, boring days. How can you be certain the woman riding about the countryside creating havoc is my wife?”
    “Various reports have mentioned a tall, red-haired woman in the company of John MacGillivray,” Garner said. “They place her at his house as well, at Dunmaglass.”
    “Various reports swore the prince's army was fifty thousand strong. If the proof you offer is that this woman has red hair, I suggest you try to find a farm, a village, a city tavern lacking someone who fits the same description. At the very least, I would suggest you make the acquaintance of John MacGillivray's fiancée—a very tall, very striking woman with a veritable cloud of long red hair—before you offer insults against my wife.”
    Garner's eyes narrowed. It was a safe bet the major had not met Elizabeth Campbell, or even if he had, that he would not remember she was short and dark-haired. In any case, Angus braced himself, wondering where his best chances lay in a duel—with sabers or pistols.
    But it was Adrienne de Boule's much-put-upon sigh that ended the tense standoff. That and a snap of her fan that sounded like a gunshot in the silence.
    “Come now, gentlemen,” she scolded prettily. “Must we spoil a perfectly lovely evening by scowling at each other?Captain MacKintosh, you promised me a set, and I can hear the musicians tuning.”
    “You will have to forgive me if I find I am suddenly not in the mood for dancing.”
    “That was the excuse you used last night and the night before.” She gathered the folds of her gown and moved daintily over to stand by his side, draping her free hand through the crook of his arm. “Refuse me again, my lord, and I shall be left with no alternative but to toss myself out of a window in despair.”
    Angus frowned down at her. His first instinct was to offer to open the nearest pane of glass. His second, arrived at when he felt the points of her nails dig into his arm, was to acknowledge the warning gleam in her eyes.
    “Naturally,” he said haltingly, “I should hate to be responsible for such a waste.”
    “Bien!”
She smiled at Garner and Worsham. “If you gentlemen will excuse us, then?”
    The two scarlet-clad officers watched them walk along the length of the gallery and Angus could feel the heat of their glares burning between his shoulder blades.
    “Do you have a death wish, Captain,” she murmured when they were out of earshot, “or are you just an idiot?”
    He started to draw to a halt but she maintained her grip on his arm and kept him moving forward.
    “The pair of them would like nothing better than to goad you into a fight. Garner, in particular, is as bloody-minded as they come, and Worsham … well. He attempts to compensate for his shortcomings in other areas by strutting around like a bandy cock.”
    “Mademoiselle de Boule, while I appreciate your stepping in to defuse the situation—”
    “The green-eyed one would cut you down without expending a bead of sweat,” she said bluntly. “I have heard he toys with his victims as a cat toys with a mouse, and when he tires of the game, he ends it. As simply as that.”
    “Your opinion of my potential skill is heartening,” he said dryly.
    “I am a realist, m'sieur. I have also seen you practicing in the exercise yards.”
    “Now see here—”
    “No. You listen to me. You have no idea how close you have come on several occasions to being arrested. The only reason you have not been before now is that although the major is convinced you are passing information to the Jacobites, he has not been able to